Freewrite, seems those're all I write these days
I'll write a list
It'll be filled with
101 stupid things I've done,
And about a billon things
I still regret.
I'll write a song
That'll rip hearts out
Expose their veins, their ventricles
And drag them all across
Broken glass floors.
I'll run far away
Over sunkissed grassy knolls
Across burning deserts, mountain peaks
Until the sound of his
Voice goes away.
I'll keep making excuses
He doesn't mean it
When he tears me apart
Limb from limb with nothing
But cruel words.
I'll carry my past
Tucked neat and tidy
Between receipts and my VISA,
Soda pop supression that'll blow
Sky high someday.
I'll cry in darkness
The stress and pain
Leaking all over my pillow,
Reminding myself that tomorrow will
Be another day.